The Vicar of Dibley

The Vicar of Dibley (1994–2007) is a British sitcom created by Richard Curtis, and mostly written by Curtis and Paul Mayhew-Archer. The show was written for its title actor, Dawn French.

The sitcom is about a small fictional village called Dibley that gets a female vicar (set after the real-life change in Church of England law allowing the ordination of women). It is a comedic study of the effect that this has on a small rural community. The Vicar of Dibley came third in a 2004 BBC poll to find 'Britain's Best Sitcom'.

Reverend Pottle: Lord, we ask you to bless the members of this, thy congregation. (There are four people in the pews.) We also ask you to remember the Queen, who has been having trouble with her piles again, and Mrs. Sinclair Wilson and all her family. (Alice whispers in his ear) Mrs. Sinclair Wilson, who has been having trouble with her piles again, and the Queen and all her family. May you bring them happiness in this life and in the next. Peace everlasting. Amen.

Alice: Amen.

(Alice looks up to see that Reverand Pottle has apparently dozed off in the pulpit. She nudges him and then checks his pulse. He is dead.)

Alice: Um... We now sing hymn number 16: 'The Day Thou Gavest Lord is Ended.'

(They begin to sing and carry on as Reverand Pottle slowly tilts and falls to the ground.)

(On deciding to rally the parish council against the appointment of a female vicar)

David Horton: They don't call me Sportin' Horton for nothing!

Hugo Horton: I didn't know they called you Sportin' Horton. I thought they called you Dirty David due to your enormous collection of Victorian porno-

Jim Trott: [Over PA system] No no no no no no no Parking is allowed on the upper field! No no no no no no no refreshments will be available in the refreshment tent!

(A villager comes up to Jim)

Villager: Is that "No parking is allowed in the upper field", or "Parking is allowed in the upper field"?

Jim Trott: [Over PA system] No no no no no no no Parking is allowed on the upper field! OK?

David Horton: Our vicar has as many connections with the rich and famous as I have with the Black Panther Movement!

David Horton: [delighted] I've just been told the news; what a total and utter unmitigated cock-up! I thought the fair in '87 was embarrassing enough when those bloody kids put cannabis in the cupcakes, but this really is the queen of balls-ups! Hundreds of people waiting to see Elton John and you invite Rambling Syd Rumpo!

Alice: You know that stuff that they're selling now at the local shop?

Geraldine: Which stuff?

Alice: I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

Geraldine: Oh, yeah.

Alice: Well, you know, I can't believe it's not butter.

Geraldine: Yeah, well, I believe that is the idea, yeah.

Alice: Then yesterday I went to Kirkenden and I bought this other stuff, like a sort of home brand, you know.

Geraldine: Yes?

Alice: And, you know, I can't believe it's not I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

Geraldine: Mmmm?

[pause]

Geraldine: I'm losing you now.

Alice: Oh, right. Well, you know I Can't Believe It's Not Butter?

Geraldine: Yeah, yeah, yeah, you think it is butter.

Alice: No, no. I mean, you know the stuff that I can't believe is not butter is called I Can't Believe It's Not Butter?

Geraldine: Probably, yeah, yeah.

Alice: Well, I can't believe the stuff that is not I Can't Believe It's Not Butter is not I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. And I can't believe that both I Can't Believe It's Not Butter and the stuff that I can't believe is not I Can't Believe It's Not Butter are both, in fact, not butter. And I believe... they both might be butter... in a cunning disguise. And, in fact, there's a lot more butter around than we all thought there was.

Geraldine: Yeah. You see, I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm sure God does and is intrigued by the whole thing.

Letitia: The question is whether I bring the snails I've got for my new recipe.

Frank: What recipe is that?

Letitia: Bread and Butter Pudding Surprise

Owen: [looking at the giant vegetable Jim has grown] Well, bugger me.

Letitia: You know, it's time the vicar did something about your bad language.

Owen Newitt: I'd have brought it sooner, but I've only just passed it.

Geraldine: Right... I won't be putting it right back in then...

[Geraldine has turned down Owen's proposal of marriage]

Geraldine: Promise me you're not too upset?

Owen: Well, I don't know yet how upset I am.

Geraldine: Well, not so upset you're going to go kill yourself or anything like that?

Owen: I haven't decided. But, before I do, answer me one question.

Geraldine: Oh, anything.

Owen: Right. Have you been drinking?

Geraldine: Have had one little dropsicle, yes.

Owen: Because if there's one thing I can't stand it's a woman who drinks. So, no, I'm not upset at all. In fact I'm very grateful to you from saving me from marriage to a lush who reeks of gin from dusk till dawn. Madam, I bid you farewell, you revolting old soak.

Geraldine: You're on in fifteen seconds, Frank, and I need to hear a little bit for level, so tell us what you had for breakfast.

Frank: Toast.

Geraldine: Yeah... I need a little bit more than that, so just make something up, you know, let your imagination run wild.

Frank: Wild! Great. Two pieces of toast

David: Moving on. I have received an entry form for the Best Kept Village competition. Any thoughts?

Owen: Yes, tear it up.

David: I beg your pardon?

Owen: Months of effort and what would we win? Some pointless poncy piece of paper saying : Dibley, Best Kept Village.

Jim: No no no no, it's not just a bit of paper; it's a title, a trophy. It's a cheque for two hundred and forty thousand pounds, presented by the Duchess of Kent.

Geraldine: No, that's Wimbledon, Jim.

Jim: Yes, that is Wimbledon.

David: Oh, come on. We did all right last year.

Geraldine: We came fifty-fourth out of fifty-four!

David: Is that right?

Geraldine: Remember Denfield?

David: Well, how could one forget those poor people?

Hugo: Yes. Who would have believed a lorry-load of BSE-infected toxic waste would have crashed into a nuclear fuel tanker causing a crater two hundred feet wide and the evacuation of the entire village?

Geraldine: And they came fifty-third.

David: Point taken.

[crumples the form]

David: Let's forget it.

Jim: Sex! Sex! Sex! That's all you get on television these days.

Geraldine: Is it?

Jim: It is on mine; I watch the Playboy channel.

Geraldine: For 10 points, which Tinker was commonly known as "Donkey Bonker"?

David: Let's move on to the Gala. Any progress there, or is the climax of our show still "Owen and his Amazing Farting Duck"?

David: Right, we've got a lot of stuff to get through tonight, so if I could ask you all not to waste time with the traditional distractions, repetitions and general annoyances that are the usual content of these parish council meetings.

Owen: Good idea.

Geraldine: You're the boss.

David: Excellent. Ready, Frank?

Frank: Absolutely.

David: Bravo! Point one: the Gala Night. I thought St. Valentine's Day with all the profits going to the upkeep of the village hall. Happy with that, Jim?

Jim: Yes.

Hugo: Father.

David: Later, Hugo.

Hugo: I didn't say anything.

David: What do you mean?

Hugo: [his lips are not moving] Father. Father.

David: Oh no. It's a dream, isn't it?

Geraldine: [dressed as an angel] Yes, David, I'm afraid it is.

[Frank is on stage, doing an incredibly boring "impressions" routine]

Owen: [to David] I've got my shotgun in the van.

David: Load both barrels.

Geraldine: What's worse than not selling any tickets at all?

Owen: Well selling one ticket. But selling it to a serial killer.

Jim: No, no, no, no, th-that's right. Who comes on the stage, and slits all our throats, and then leaves us all in a great pool of blood!

David: Does anyone actually have this serial killer's address?

Geraldine: Why would anyone be stupid enough to want fame and fortune when you can have the stars at night and a proper friend by your side?

Alice: Oh, it's how we've always done it here in Dibley. You see, you get a hamster, and you wee on it, and if it turns blue you're pregnant.

Geraldine: Right.

Jim: We're sorry to trouble you at this time, Vicar. It's just that you know when you said that if we had a serious problem that should come and see you.

Geraldine: [uneasy] Yes

Frank: [serious] We need to see you now. Desperately.

Geraldine: [Geraldine begins to feel for them] Of course guys, of course. Come on in. Make yourself at home. Have a seat. Now tell me, what's the problem?

Jim: [shows a crossword] It's Seven Down.

Frank: [Frank and Jim have just found out that Geraldine is planning to sleep with Simon] Good luck vicar, I think he'll make you very happy.

Geraldine: Aw, thank you Frank.

Jim: And if he doesn't I'll have a go!

Owen: She's already missed one set of Sunday services and it's important she doesn't miss another.

Alice: Can I just say, um, that I thought Mr. Pickle gave a lovely sermon as lay preacher.

Hugo: Yes, bravo. How you kept going for two and a half hours was amazing.

Owen: As I say, it's absolutely *vital* that she doesn't miss another Sunday. I need hardly remind you that we actually lost a couple of the older members of our congregation during last week's service.

Jim: Don't worry Frank, they were going to die anyway. And that fellow who stood up and said if this moron doesn't shut up soon I'm going to kill myself and then five minutes later shot himself in the head... well, he'd been gloomy for quite some time...

Jim: That is life. Full of confusion. I found this gorgeous girl in Thailand. We snogged, well we more than snogged. I asked her to marry me, she said yes. We got married on a pineapple strewn beach. On the first night of the honeymoon she takes off all her clothes and it turns out she's a bloke called Duane.

Geraldine: And you! You think no one notices that you're.. bald. I mean everyone is looking at you, and thinking "My goodness. Why does this man have a massive egg for a head". CRACK ON!

Geraldine: [Geraldine giving her Christmas sermon while heavily drunk] On this day, many many years ago, a child was born. And his name was ummm... his name was... gosh, I know this... it's in that book. Ummm... [looks at Alice for answer].

Alice: [Whispers, trying to hint the name] J.

Geraldine: Jeremy! No, that's not it.

Alice: [Whispers louder than before] J-esus.

Geraldine: Jesus - no that's not right either. Doesn't matter, what's in a name? Important thing is... he was a very, very nice guy... apparently. (laughs) Two important things to remember about him. ONE, he loved all of us and he had a nice fluffy beard , and three, two, one - THUNDERBIRDS ARE GO!!! [She collapses and falls off the pulpit. The congregation applauds].

Harry: [moves a large box] Sorry it's a bit of a mess. I just moved out of a student big flat in London it's gonna be a bit of a squeeze squeezing it all in so uh, well if you see anything you like the look of just steal it I'll never know.

Alice: Really?

Geraldine: [to Alice] No, not really.

Harry: Oh, I'm Harry by the way. Sorry. All over the shop today.

Geraldine: [shaking Harry's hand] Oh, right and I'm Geraldine. I just live down the lane.

Harry: Excellent.

Geraldine: Yeah.

Alice: And I'm Alice.

Harry: [shakes her hand] Splendid! Well, what a suprise so I actually recieve a visit from a neighbour. I lived on the same street in London for 15 whole years and the bell never rang once.

Alice: Oh, we had a bell like that... We wired it wrong...

David: Yes well, there is one little thing: I brought along a bottle of champagne, because although she may not realize it, the Vicar last weekend did her 100th Wedding while she's been here.

[everyone cheers and David pops the cork off the bottle as Hugo brings glasses to the table]

Jesus was born on Christmas dayHalleluia, halleluiaBut he never got his end awayHalleluia

Geraldine: Next!

Geraldine: So Frank, how many verses?

Frank: 108. It's quite a controversial thesis and it took a little bit of time to formulate my... peroration.

Geraldine: Right, well, would you forgive us if we didn't hear all of the verses?

Frank: I could drop 1 or 2 in the middle.

Geraldine: Fire away!

Frank:

Praise the lordBut hold on to your hatJesus Christ was born a cat

Geraldine: You say it.

Alice: Next.

Frank: (walks away mumbling sadly)

Geraldine: Can I just say, before you start, that all my hopes for this competition - indeed, all my hopes that after 10 years there is one shred of talent or sanity in this village are resting entirely upon you?

Jim: No... No-no, no-no, no worries. I was trying to work out which bit of the nativity story was never done.

Geraldine: Good.

Jim: Then I realised... the actual birth.

Geraldine: Bad. And so it goes?

Jim:

Praise the lord, he's coming down the birth canalHere he comes, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeLook, the madonna's fully dilatedShe shall not need an episiotomy